THE HUSTLE: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK FOURTEEN) Read online

  THE HUSTLE

  GODS OF CHAOS MOTORCYCLE CLUB

  HONEY PALOMINO

  COPYRIGHT © 2020 HONEY PALOMINO

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WORLDWIDE

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidences are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content and is intended for adults only.

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  Trigger Warning:

  Contains adult situations and deals with issues regarding sexual assault.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Thank You

  Prologue

  Misty rain fluttered over us, as I huddled with Pop under a streetlight in Battery Park. A homeless man lay on a pile of newspapers on a bench nearby, the newspaper blowing in the biting cold breeze. Glistening underfoot, the sidewalk looked like a sheet of black glass.

  “How’d you do?” Pop asked.

  I opened my bag, displaying the shimmering contents, the light hitting the jewels and sending little rays of light reflecting through the darkness.

  He beamed at me, his eyes overflowing with pride.

  “Excellent, Pepper!” he whispered, my heart swelling with happiness as he hugged me close to his side.

  “How about you, Pop?” I asked, closing my bag.

  He unzipped his bag and I peered inside, my eyes widening at the stacks of cash. “I did it, babe. The big one!”

  “Pop!” I cried out, jumping for joy. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I can hardly believe it myself,” he whispered, quickly zipping it back up as he looked around the park. “Let’s get moving. Hold on a second, though.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, sliding a hundred-dollar bill out of it. He walked over to the man sleeping on the bench and quietly slid the bill under the man’s bag before walking back over to me.

  We quickly fell in step with each other, just as we have since I took my first step in our kitchen. I don’t remember that, of course, but Pop’s told me the story a million times.

  Pop’s been my best friend all my life. It’s always been just the two of us. Ma died right after giving birth to me and I guess Pop’s been trying to compensate for that ever since.

  “Are we going home now?” I asked.

  “Soon, baby,” he said. “But first, how about we go to Antonetti’s for dinner?”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “Antonetti’s? Really?”

  We’d only been there once before, five years ago, on my tenth birthday. Eating at Antonetti’s was a big deal. It was expensive and fancy and delicious. The diners spoke in hushed tones and the waiters hovered in the dark corners like quiet trees, waiting to attend to your every need.

  “Do you think we’re dressed appropriately?” I asked.

  “Of course, look at us,” he said, with a dismissive wave. “We look like we could have just come from the ballet.”

  I laughed, staring over at my father with pride. I loved him so much. He’d taken excellent care of me, and while we didn’t have what one might call a traditional lifestyle, I didn’t mind one bit. There was nothing I was lacking.

  Except Ma, of course, but he couldn’t do anything about that.

  He’d taught me everything he knew.

  I had skills most fifteen-year olds didn’t even know existed.

  I could pick a lock in five seconds flat.

  I could talk my way into or out of most any situation.

  I could steal someone’s wallet and take all their cash and credit cards and then put their wallet back in their pocket — and finish it up by slipping off their watch — all without them ever knowing a thing had happened.

  Sure, my skills might be questionable to some, but you can’t deny the value in them.

  In addition to these skills, my father taught me compassion. They went hand in hand, he believed.

  That meant that we didn’t hustle anyone who didn’t deserve to be played.

  And those people who were worse off than us? We helped them.

  “Should we take the subway?” I asked.

  He paused, breathing in the misty night air and smiling. “Let’s walk, bella. It’s a lovely evening for a stroll.”

  “Sounds great, Pop,” I said, winding my arm through his. His warmth rolled off his large frame like a giant wave of comfort. I leaned into him, relishing in my love for him, melting into the safety of being by his side. We started walking again, out of the park and onto the bustling Manhattan streets.

  The moon hung heavy overhead, a pale globe of celestial love looking down protectively over the city. It was the beginning of October, the smell of Autumn in the air — with pumpkins in all the storefronts and leaves covering the edges of the sidewalks. Bundled up in heavy coats and hats already, the chill in the air made people walk just a little bit faster than usual.

  “So, tell me what happened!” I insisted, as we trailed through the river of people.

  “It was easier than I thought, honestly,” he began. He spoke with confidence, his pride in his job evident in his lifted chin. “I showed the banker the ID and he barely glanced at it, Pepper! Since I had the keys, he didn’t think twice about letting me in. The money was right where we knew it would be.”

  “I knew you’d get it,” I said. Pop never failed.

  “You always have such faith in me, Pepper,” he said.

  “Of course, I do!” I insisted. “You’re my Pop!”

  He patted my hand tucked into his elbow. “You’re sweet, bella. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Ditto,” I said, jumping up on my tip toes and kissing him on the cheek. He’d been working on this job for a few weeks now — making sure the fake ID was perfect. Staking out the bank to weed out the least diligent security guard. He’d gotten the keys to the safety deposit box from a party on Fifth Avenue we snuck into a few weeks ago and I knew he was nervous about the job, even if he’d never admit it.

  I was pleased it had gone so well — for both of us.

  “Tell me about your job,” he said, patting my hand tucked into his elbow as
we rounded a corner. He always wanted to know every detail.

  “They never suspected a thing,” I shrugged. “I set a tiny fire in the metal trash can in the building’s bathroom before going inside the store. By the time the clerk realized there was a fire in the building, she’d already pulled several trays of necklaces out for me. In the chaos, I swiped them while she wasn’t looking and we all ran out of the building together. I just slipped away down the street when the fire truck arrived.”

  “Good girl,” he nodded. “The owner of that shop is a terrible tyrant. He’s hideous to his neighbors and stands outside berating everyone who walks by that he doesn’t like. And, rumor has it, he beats his wife. He deserves it.”

  I nodded, pleased he approved of my take.

  “Thanks, Pop,” I said.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking, bella,” he said, his words slowing a little. “Maybe we should take a few weeks off. Rent a cabin Upstate. It might be nice to get out of the city. We’ve spent so much time here.”

  I knew Pop was getting older. I knew the hustle was getting to him a little these days. A few weeks of rest would probably do him good. If anyone deserved it, it was him.

  “That sounds great,” I said. “When we get home, I’ll make us a reservation.”

  “Thank you, bella,” he said. “And why wait? Let’s go this weekend.”

  “Sure, Pop,” I said.

  We were only a few blocks away from the restaurant when Pop stopped and pointed across the street.

  “I need to take care of something,” he said, leading me across the street, dodging the shiny wet cars. He stopped when he approached a homeless woman sitting on the corner, a wool blanket pulled up over her shoulders.

  “Esther,” Pop called. Her face lit up when she saw my father. Her eyes were chocolate brown and shining with love and kindness.

  “Mr. Zappala!” She cried with a smile. “How are you?”

  “Esther, now I told you to call me Mario,” he laughed. “I’m doing alright, dear, how about you?”

  “You know me, Mario. Nothing much changes out here.”

  “No, it doesn’t, does it? I thought you might say that, though,” he said. He unzipped his backpack and reached inside. “Today, though, Esther, everything changes.”

  “Oh, what are you up to, Mario?” She laughed, looking up at him curiously.

  He pulled out six very thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills and leaned down with a smile, holding them out to her.

  “This is for you, Esther. Go get a hotel. Get cleaned up. Buy some good clothes. Get a job, anything at all. But make sure it’s something you like. And then, get yourself an apartment. There’s enough money here to take care of all of that, and then some.”

  She looked down at the cash in her hands like it was on fire.

  Shaking her head, she whispered, “Mario, don’t mess with me.”

  “Esther, would I mess with you like that?” he replied, winking at her. “I told you when we met that one day I’d help you out.”

  “I didn’t believe you,” she whispered, bewildered.

  “Well, do you believe me now? It’s all yours. Make good use of it. Life out here on the streets isn’t any kind of life. You’re a good woman, Esther, I know that. You deserve better.”

  “I am, Mario,” she said, tears springing to her eyes. “This is real?”

  “This is real,” he smiled. He reached down and squeezed her hand. “Now, hide that money away real quick before someone steals it.”

  She nodded, quickly stuffing it into her nearby duffel bag.

  “Good, now take my hand,” he said, reaching out to her. She took his hand and he helped her up off the ground with her bag. Standing face to face, they peered into each other’s eyes with mutual love and respect.

  “You know this changes everything for me, right?” she asked, her eyes shining with happiness.

  “I know, Esther, I know,” he said, caressing her cheek. “You won’t ever have to spend another night on the streets now.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling him in for a hug. I smiled, my heart swelling with pride. Tears sprang to my eyes. I’d never loved him more than right then.

  He reached into his coat and pulled out a pen and paper, scribbling our phone number on it and then pressing it into her palm. “You call me if you run into any trouble, okay?”

  “You’re a good man, Mario,” she whispered. She looked over at me. “Your father’s a good man, child.”

  I nodded, smiling back at her.

  She picked up the rest of her belongings and walked away. I wrapped my arms around Pop’s waist and pulled him close, pressing my cheek into his chest.

  “That was the sweetest thing,” I said. He patted my back, his warmth rolling over me.

  “It’s important to help out those that have less than us, bella,” he said. “It’ll come back to you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  “I won’t, Pop,” I said.

  “Ready for dinner?” he asked, his eyes shining down at me.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed. We began walking the last few blocks towards Antonetti’s and I couldn’t help but think that I had the best father around.

  I felt so blessed.

  We were half a block away from Antonetti’s, when he stopped beside me, his body going stiff. I turned to look at him just as he fell to the sidewalk.

  “Pop!” I cried, sinking to my knees next to him. His hand was on his chest and he stared up at me, his face twisted in pain.

  “Pop! Pop!” I cried, my head spinning.

  The misty rain fell on his face, his hat and bag lying on the sidewalk next to him.

  “Help!” I shouted, calling to a group of people passing by.

  A man stopped and kneeled down beside me, his friends watching behind him.

  “I’m a doctor,” he said, his voice calm and steady as he put his ear to Pop’s chest and then began pumping his fists on it. My eyes trailed over to Pop’s face. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open.

  “Go call an ambulance,” the man said.

  “Pop!” I cried, shaking my head, my entire being balking at the thought of leaving him there.

  “Go now! Hurry!” the man barked again.

  My heart pounded in my chest as I turned and ran as fast as I could. My hands trembled as I threw open the door of Antonetti’s, calling out desperately for help.

  By the time I got the words out and made it back to Pop, it was too late.

  He was already gone.

  Time stood still and chaos swirled around me as I watched people gather on the street, pointing and whispering as we waited for the ambulance. The doctor was still doing CPR, rising and falling against my father’s chest, but there was no mistaking what my entire soul was telling me.

  He was gone.

  The only thing I had in this world — gone, in an instant.

  Unconsciously, my training kicked in.

  Pop had prepared me for every worst-case scenario, even the possibility of something happening to him.

  The life we lived was dangerous.

  He knew that. I knew that.

  We didn’t pretend otherwise.

  Pop was smart. Smarter than most anyone.

  And now, just like always, I heard his voice in my head.

  “Move, Pepper. Take the bags. Leave me there. Go. Don’t hesitate.”

  I knew I was paralyzed in shock. I knew I had to move. I had to get out of there.

  “One foot in front of the other,” I whispered under my breath. “Oh, Pop…”

  “Move, Pepper. Take the bag. Leave me there. Go. Don’t hesitate. Go, bella! Now!”

  I’d imagined a moment like this before. Mostly, I imagined he just wouldn’t come back from a job and I’d never know what happened.

  I never thought he would just die right next to me on the street.

  But I always knew what I would have to do, no matter how it happened.

  Flashing lights washed over the wet streets, re
flecting off the dirty puddles, illuminating the mist falling around me. Paramedics poured out of the ambulance and surrounded Pop, taking over for the nice doctor who’d stopped earlier.

  My eyes landed on the bag at his side, mine still strapped around my body.

  “Take the bag and go, Pepper!”

  I inhaled deeply, breathing in the wet air, tears streaming down my face.

  Quickly, I jumped forward and grabbed Pop’s bag.

  With tears streaming down my face and my heart crushed into a million pieces, I ran as fast as I could into my future.

  Chapter 1

  PEPPER

  “I am woman, hear me roar

  In numbers too big to ignore

  And I know too much to go back and pretend

  ‘Cause I’ve heard it all before

  And I’ve been down there on the floor

  No one’s ever gonna keep me down again…”

  ~Helen Reddy

  Hollywood’s shine is all fake.

  Take a step past the glitter and sparkling facade, past the old money and new money, past the perfectly tanned skin, the flawless smiles, the dancing fringe hanging off sculpted bodies, the blow-outs and painted fingertips, the shimmering jewels, the crystal wine glasses, the bubbling laughter, the lights, the camera, the action…and you simply find reality.

  Everything is a costume.

  An act.

  The proverbial wool pulled over the eyes.

  Smoke. Mirrors.

  I know this now, but there was a time when even I was fooled by the glitz and the glamour. Back when I was young, when Pop was still alive…